Frayed
by day dreaming dreamer
Summary: "Most heroes are not granted happy endings," Zelda replied softly, almost gingerly. "It makes me happy to know that the rest of your life will be enshrouded by sunlight rather than the darkness." Link and Zelda are not lovers. They're not even friends. But they care about each other, and somehow that's enough. Zelda/Link. {Twilight Princess}


**frayed**

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Contrary to popular belief, they were not lovers. It would've disappointed the townsfolk beyond recognition, but it was the truth. It was even a stretch to say that the two were on friendly terms. They were nothing but mere strangers, and their only reduction being that they have always had the same goal in mind. A more brutally honest answer would be that their relationship was terse and filled with nothing more than trivial politeness. Zelda could see the reluctance in Link's eyes, and surely he could see the words left unsaid in hers.

He was the hero, and she was the queen. Whether they liked it or not, their destines were intertwined with each other. She knew he held grudges with her for dragging him into this complicated, shambled mess, and he knew that she felt guilty, whether the fault lay with her or the goddesses. They knew each other. Sometimes when they stared at each other, even with just a simple off handed glance, familiarity would built within. Link recognized her. Her hair was now brunette, expressions frosty and smiles a rarity, but it would always be his Zelda, the same way that it would always be her Link. Their souls belonged to one another. They would forever do this dance of protecting the will of the gods- no matter how unfair- and they would always know each other. It was a strange oddity, to look at a stranger and feel a mixture of warm and cold continuously stir in one's chest. He hated her for the destruction of his life. He blamed her for the scars marring his body, and the nightmares that wrack at his form every night. She hated him for not remembering. She hated herself for bringing him back into this. Life after life, she would always be the one to knock the first domino down.

They pretended not to know each other. Hatred from this life and love from others did not settle well with the either of them, so they do their best to avoid. Avoid and lie. He was present at her coronation, and present at all the parties afterward. He was dark and brooding with an odd mixture of sarcasm and kindness, and she never could tell if his words were capturing his loathe or sincerity.

"The hero has come to see you, highness."

Zelda glanced up at the doorway, important paperwork below her. She feigned a strained (it felt tired) smile at the appearance of the blonde-haired man standing in the doorway. Guards surrounded him, and she could sense the flair of annoyance and rebelliousness in his eyes. She stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. He was still in his green tunic, sword sheathed at his side. In spite of the tension that hung between the two, Zelda would do anything to protect the hero, as he would do anything to protect his queen. She shoved the papers into a neat pile before averting her attention back to him, beckoning for him to enter. He entered like chains were dragging down his legs, awkwardly lingering in the middle of the room. She was pleased and frightened at the same time. He never came to see her unless summoned, and even then, it was never in her own home.

Zelda cleared her throat, regaining her bearings with ease. "You may leave us."

The guards bow before one closed the door, but she could still make out the faint movements lingering behind the wood.

Link sent her a bewildered look as he took a seat beside her, (she had insisted) looking at the door with mild irritation. "Do they follow you everywhere?"

She nodded, smiling faintly at his inquiry. "Yes."

He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "Sounds restricting."

Zelda glanced at him with a sliver of amusement. He was right, of course. It was smothering. She could order them away, but they would never go far, and for good reason. After the events of the Twilight, it made her uneasy to go on her own for a long time. Almost like she would be imprisoned again, invisible shackles forming over her arms and legs. She stared at him, and he stared back, but it was only a second before their gaze shattered. It was hard to imagine him as a king or prince, and she knew without a doubt he would've detested the life. Being royalty would've destroyed him faster than any monster, and that was another reason they never could've been involved romantically.

"It is, but I've grown accustomed to it." There was a silence that lasted a few beats, but she broke it quickly. "What brings you here, young hero? Would you like anything to drink? To eat?"

"No, thank you," he mumbled, fiddling with his folded hands. Zelda glanced at him, awaiting his next answer. "I've decided to leave Hyrule," he said bluntly after a quick cough. Seeing her alarm, he clarified. "I'm not going too far. If there's trouble, I should be able to return quickly." She nodded, but his news took a blow to her. When she could finally breathe again, she looked at him. Her eyes were a mixture of sadness and an unspoken plea, but he either didn't take notice or couldn't find the words to convey his denial. "My wife and I, Ilia, we're planning on starting a family." He suddenly looked sheepish, like he had shared too much information with her. "Somewhere where there is not so many reminders of..."

She recalled Ilia, but it was a blurry memory. Wonderfully bright green eyes, passionate and lovely, a roundish face and tanned skin. She was short and petite, much smaller than even Zelda's lithe frame. She had a boyish haircut, but it only attributed to her youthful beauty. The girl was truly a gem, and although Zelda recognized herself as beautiful, it was more regal. She tried to picture herself with Link, but it looked strange in her mind.

He looked like he was struggling to put it in a way that wasn't offensive, so Zelda held up a hand. "I understand, hero."

The Twilight had been a time of bloodshed, cruelty, and injustice. The land was surrounded in a dark hue, shadows and spectators being allowed to dance between the lines of life and death. There was also a chill to her world then, an unmistakable coldness as if someone (or _something)_ was breathing down your neck. She refrained from shuddering at the memories of the cold. Memories of unblinking opened eyes and wounds rushed back towards her, and she looked away, pensive and remorseful. It had been her duty to protect her people, and she had failed, relying on Link. She was desperate, yes, but she always wished there could've been another way. Her actions had been riddled with haste, and she didn't have the time to spare any caution. Link's sanity had been on the line, along with his and Midna's life, and even then she couldn't find the compassion to care about his consequences. _Midna_. Her chest tightened at the mention. She was the woman who had held the two together. The glue in their relationship. Link cared for her, and she knew that if Midna was here, it would not be Ilia he would be marrying. It was a mutual affection, and without her here, his resentment for Zelda only continued to grow.

Link let out a sigh. "You're upset."

She looked to him in surprise. "Forgive my silence," she quickly rushed out. "I was only thinking."

"What of?" he asked, heavy boots clinking off the polished floor. "You disprove of my actions, do you not?"

She swallowed, not bothering to speak on the hard edge that engulfed his tone. So accusatory. He was prodding at her, waiting for her to explode and give him a reason to unleash whatever bottled up emotions he kept inside. It was always like that whenever they spoke. She sometimes wished he would dish out his anger on him, if only this torturous game of guilt and blame would be over. "I do not," she said in clarity, her voice firm. "I would like nothing more than for you to have a fresh start."

He snorted at that, uncaring of her elite stature. "I'm sure you would." His voice dripped with cynicism, blue eyes hardening with every word spoken.

"I wish not to fight with you," she snapped, her impassive expression turning sharp. "You've told me your news, and I grant you permission. It has never been your nature to have others suffer needlessly, so why must you continue to punish me?"

Link's eyes widened at her abrupt outburst. It wasn't spoken too loud, nor too quiet. It was spoken strictly, tightly, and the terseness in the room only grew. She was the one who had a handle on her emotions, and seeing her behave without cold disdain was somewhat of a shock. He remained silent for a few brief seconds. The idea of an argument was enticing, but it would only prove what she had spoken. As compelling as unleashing frustration with her was, she didn't deserve it. "It is not my intention to punish you, Zelda."

"But you hate me." She spoke it with such conviction that he flinched, her voice cold and burning at the same time. "You hate me for losing control of my kingdom. You hate me for failing my duty. You hate me for forcing you to save me. Every battle wound you don, you blame me, and you hate me to the point where-"

He slammed his fist down on the table, cutting off her words. If he was lying, he denied it very well. "I do not hate you, Zelda!" he yelled ardently, blue eyes shining in a mixture of regret and dissatisfaction. "I don't even know you!"

"You do," she spoke it so quietly he almost missed it. Her gloved hands pressed against both his cheeks, and his eyes widened from the pain in her eyes. "Haven't you felt it? Haven't you dreamt it? You know me better than anyone else, the same way I know you better than anyone else." He leaned into her touch, face paling from how recognizable her hands felt. Almost as if they had caressed him and touched him a million times over. His eyes were still the same blue, but less energetic. More tired and weary. Zelda found herself startled because while she had always looked at him, she had never spotted these singular details. How helpless he seemed. The premature wrinkles, much like her own, like every day was a struggle to move throughout. She thought she knew every detail to him, but it was all a lie tied with the cruelest twist in fate. She suddenly pulled away as if he had burned her, lips pressing into an ashamed line. "I apologize. That was presumptuous of me."

"I don't know you," he repeated, sounding almost bitter. "I can't explain it. I do, but I don't..."

She looked out the window, staring at the small fields in the distance. The bright sun cast golden shadows across the land, and she closed her eyes from the warmth. "You've spent too much time in the Twilight."

He soured at her scrutiny, snapping from his dazed stupor. "I know."

"A fresh start would do you well." He stood behind her, eyebrows furrowed at her words. She sounded almost numb, much like she had when he had met her for the first time. This queen truly was a robot, a perfect machine, and it always felt like he was waiting for her to eventually break. "May I ask of your wife's health?"

"She is well."

Zelda looked over her shoulder at him, expression blank and frozen, but grey eyes fond and sincere. "I'm glad. When are you departing?"

"A few weeks." He shot her an odd look, one that she returned with a mask of puzzlement. "Why are you asking about her? You've never wanted to know about anything like that before." He moved to stand closer by her side, her attention still diverted by the yellow warmth that surrounded the glossy window. She smelled like lilacs, he noticed, casting a sideways glance to her. In all the time he had known her, he had never stood this close. Her Hylian features were strong, the queen donning pointed ears and an angular face that seemed almost elven. Her skin was pale and smooth, a small strand of auburn hair obscuring her vision. She brushed it aside, smiling at him.

"Most heroes are not granted happy endings," she replied softly, almost gingerly. "It makes me happy to know that the rest of your life will be enshrouded by sunlight rather than the darkness. You deserve to live peacefully, hero."

They would never amount to lovers, or even friends. Whatever hung between them in the air was nothing more than a strong connection, a connection that would never leave them, and they cherished that at the same time they hated it. Their relationship would forever be frayed in this life, layers shedding off with every word spoken.

He kissed her cheek before leaving.

It burned hot and cold.

In this lifetime, she never saw him again.


End file.
